For the Love of Hair
by Mella deRanged
Summary: The wistful story of Draco and his attempts to discover the strange truth about his hair’s, and his own, feelings. Featuring: veryangsty!Harry, blobhaired!Ron, bookish!flirtatious!Hermione. Parody and humor galore.


**For the Love of Hair  
**  
**Author:** Mella deRanged

**Rating**: NC17... just joking. Around PG.

**Genre:** Mockery of fangirl gush.  
  
**Dedication to: **Kim (Carollipop) because without her Draco obsession I would never have chosen to mock Draco so much  
  
**Disclaimer: **I would say I own Draco, but to say that would be to be mobbed by rabid fangirls who all claim to own him, so I won't and will give the credit and acclaim to that person who deserves it for letting Sirius die, JKR! Lol. Really, not mine.  
  
**Pairings:** Draco/Draco's hair, Hermione/Draco, Hermione/Draco's hair

Once upon a time there was a piece of cheese. It lived on Draco's head. It was slimy and blonde, just like him. One sunny day, it melted on his head, and was from then on referred to as Draco's hair. Draco and his hair became good friends. Indeed, Draco even talked to his hair, saying seductively, "My hair, mine... mine... I love my sleek hair... you hair, are just beautiful, like me. I love you, just as long as you retain your beauty for eternity" and to which the hair (which is devoid of lips I may add) answered, "as you wish." But when the hair said 'as you wish' what it really meant was, "I love you too, Draco."  
  
But Draco didn't know that. So he wandered through life, unsure of himself and insecure. Poor Draco was doomed to live unhappily, unless he could find out if his hair shared his feelings.  
  
One day he saw a group of three – a girl, and two boys. One of the boys had black hair that looked disgustingly messy; Draco felt that the boy and his hair must have an even worse relationship than him and his hair. The girl had brown bushy hair – at seeing that Draco felt about to vomit, though he would not do so as the smell might offend his hair, and that was of course the last thing he would possibly want to do. The other boy was a red head. He was tall, gangly and his hair was just... red. A homogenous blob of red, it was not messy, nor bushy, nor short, nor long. It just was.  
  
"Hello," he remarked to the boy with horrid black hair. "Which conditioner do you use?" Of course, the only reason why Draco wanted to know was so that he could stay as far away from that brand as possible. It wouldn't do to make his sleek beautiful blonde hair like that mess.  
  
The boy's response made Draco almost jump. Actually he did jump, secure in the knowledge that his hair was so oily that the action wouldn't tousle it.  
  
"ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?" yelled the boy.  
  
"Why yes," replied Draco.  
  
"HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME?!?!?!?!"  
  
Draco pondered this. "...I don't know?"  
  
"HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT ME!!!?!!?!"  
  
"But you weren't doing anything..."  
  
"I WAS WALLOWING IN ANGST!!!! I MUST TALK WITH EXCLAMATION MARKS AND CAPITAL LETTERS TO EXPRESS THE DEEP EMOTIONS I FEEL AND UNDERGO AS AN ANGSTY TEEN, WALLOWING IN SELF-RIGHTEOUS ANGER!!!!"  
  
Draco stared. His hair (though it was devoid of eyes) stared too.  
  
"STOP TALKING!!! YOU ARE INTERRUPTING MY ANGSTY THOUGHTS!!!"  
  
"But I didn't say anything," protested Draco.  
  
"YOU THINK TOO LOUDLY!! YOUR THOUGHTS INTERRUPT MY ANGSTYNESS!!"  
  
Thinking he had finally understood the boy, Draco added his comment, trying to help the poor mental boy without prescribing a straight jacket.  
  
"It's okay, not everyone can have beautiful hair like me!" Draco flicked his hair, his voice placating though smug.  
  
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT MY HAIR YOU DUMBASS!!!! AND ITS NOT LIKE ANYONE WOULD TELL ME THAT MY HAIR IS NASTY BEFORE WOULD THEY?!!! WOULD THEY?!!! BECAUSE NOONE TELLS ME ANYTHING!!! NOONE!!! NO POOR STUPID HARRY THEY ALL SAY. I MEAN I'VE DONE MORE THAN ANY OF YOU! BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON?! WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT'S HAPPENING WITH MY HAIR?! LET'S ALL KEEP THE BOY-WHO-RUDDY-WELL-SHOULD-HAVE-DIED IN THE DARK, SHALL WE?! HAH!! WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STARING AT ME?! I AM WALLOWING IN ANGST!! WHY DON'T YOU GO DIE SOMEWHERE!?!?!"  
  
"Okay then..." said Draco.  
  
The black-haired boy stormed out of the compartment.  
  
Draco moved on to address the next person in the compartment.  
  
"Hello," he said, slightly cautiously now.  
  
The bushy-haired girl did not respond. Actually, the only part of her head was visible was her busy hair as the rest was hidden by a very big book. But he supposed it was a girl... most boys didn't have that long hair...  
  
"HELLO!" he repeated. How could anyone pass over looking at a book rather than at his beauteous hair?! It glistened, it shone, it was ... a heavenly blonde halo.  
  
But still the...girl...did not look at him.  
  
He almost cried in frustration. Everyone just had to look at his hair, if they didn't then his wonderful fangirls might –sniff- abandon him... and after they did, it wouldn't be very long till his hair decided to ditch him too... and he just couldn't live without his hair.  
  
"Will you just look at me?" The girl...or boy... didn't look up.  
  
Aggravated he tried once more, "HEY! YOU! MUDHAIR!"  
  
The instant the words escaped his lips he felt a blow strike him in the stomach. (Well, perhaps not the instant as the redhead had slow reflexes but close enough).  
  
Gasping in pain, he looked up. It was the red haired boy.  
  
"You- you called her a mudblood!! YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT ONE MALFOY!"  
  
"No", corrected Draco delicately, "I called her a mudhair. There is a difference you know. And how do you know my name? Oh, but of course."  
  
Draco fluttered one hand elegantly. "You must be one of the fangirls."  
  
He eyed the redhead speculatively.  
  
"I had almost mistaken you for a male, but your female characteristics are truly evident now that I think of it. I'm ever so flattered that you would see fit to greet me personally, though I must say, please find another way to greet me."  
  
He smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth.  
  
"I mean, I can't have all my fangirls simply swarming around me, don't you know? Though I realize you love me and my," he flicked back his hair, "hair, you must restrict your attentions."  
  
The redhead throughout this stood dumbstruck, his mouth open. After a few minutes, in which Draco continued flicking his hair, the redhead closed his mouth.  
  
"Why you- you little –you!"  
  
The redhead advanced on Draco. Draco began to back away.  
  
"Now see here! I realize that you are dedicated, but this is really going too far. I mean after all, I am a Malfoy with beautiful hair. While you are a ... er... well, someone lower than me with a blob of hair."  
  
But as the redhead advanced Draco heard a yell and a streak of red light. "STUPEFY!" It hit the redhead in the back, who keeled over, his hair turning... green? With distaste, Draco stepped over the fallen greenhead.  
  
The bushy-haired...person's eyes were now visible, peering over the book.  
  
"What," she (because her voice was distinctly feminine) asked coldly, "is your problem? You are distracting me from completing my reading of Hogwarts: A History for the millionth and thirty-second time."  
  
Draco didn't know why, but he felt strangely compelled to tell the bushy- haired girl.  
  
Averting his eyes from the horror that was her hair, he told her his sad story.  
  
"Well you see, we Malfoys are beautiful. I mean, my father's even got a pimp stick. And well, our hair is also beautiful. And I couldn't help falling in love with it, just like my fangirls. But you see, that's the thing. I can't tell if it loves me back or not and... not knowing... Well... it's tearing me apart." Here Draco sniffled for dramatic effect.  
  
The girl didn't seem to pay any heed though. She addressed him with annoyance. "Well, just cast a love charm on it, then a speaking charm! I would think that obvious!"  
  
It was like Draco had been hit by a bolt of lightning. His hair stood on end, a beautifully pearly white smile flashed as his face showed comprehension, the solution to his greatest problem and fear.  
  
The girl sighed, then irritated swished, flicked, and swished her wand –pointing it at Draco's head.  
  
And Draco's hair spoke. "I love you," said his hair, dreamily, silkily.  
  
The voice was always how Draco had imagined it to be – no, it was better. It was beyond his greatest dreams; it was so suited to the nature of his satiny hair. And to hear those words, it made him filled with such joy on the inside. He felt whole.  
  
He managed to make out four words. "I love you too."  
  
And the hair kissed him. Or rather, a long piece of it roped down, a beautiful silky strand of hair. It came down and kissed Draco, who kissed back, savouring the soft, silky and oddly cheese-tasting flavour in his mouth.  
  
The moment seemed to last much too short a time. He finished the kiss, and the stroke his hair, his hair. Yes, he thought dreamily. It was his.  
  
"Well?" broke in the girl.  
  
Draco started. He had forgotten that the bushy-haired girl was there.  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"Well..." she said, impatience evident in her tone. "I just solved your problem. You are now obliged to say you love me and marry me. It's how things work."  
  
Draco looked on in horror. "What?!" he sputtered. "Marry you?!"  
  
"I was going to marry the hero, but he's wallowing in angst at the moment, so I can't complete that heroine role and I rather don't think I want to. I mean, yeah sure he's got those lusty green eyes," she sighed dreamily, "but his hair is so messy. So unlike yours. Your absolutely gorgeous hair."  
  
Draco's hair tittered at the compliment. The bushy-haired girl stroked the hair and then withdrew her hand. Draco's hair made odd purring noises and words "yes.. oh do that...yeees..." When the hand was withdrawn vaguely recognizable words were audible that sounded like, "oooh, touch me," or perhaps it was "I love it when you touch me." Whatever it said, it definitely had the word 'touch' in it. Quite disturbing considering that 'it' was infact, melted cheese. Expensive cheese, but nevertheless, cheese.  
  
Draco was still in shock, too much so to realize the flirting between his hair and the bushy-haired girl.  
  
"Loose my position as #1 for the most charming and beautiful and sexy bachelor in this-and any other-century?!" he practically screamed.  
  
He calmed down slightly, his tone becoming more relaxed and normal.  
  
"I mean, you are smart and all, sure. But your hair... well I hate to tell you this... but it looks like a dead squirrel. Plus, I could never devote my love to another."  
  
Draco stroked his hair happily. The hair seemed to move, huggling Draco's scalp. Sure it liked Hermione, but Draco – Draco was his, just as it was Draco's.  
  
Draco sighed blissfully. "No, no. I'm afraid that's a no-can-do. Thanks for all the help, but remember this. A Malfoy never needs help, much less from a Mudhair."  
  
And with that Draco fled - no left the compartment (a Malfoy never flees), his hair as beauteous as ever, content with the world now that he knew his hair loved him, oblivious to the angry curses which hit the compartment door as he closed it.  
  
**THE END**


End file.
